


Allen

by yohlenyaoilover



Series: Prison Break: The Project [2]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: Homosexuality, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 23:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5024371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yohlenyaoilover/pseuds/yohlenyaoilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After T-Bag introduces himself in the courtyard, Michael's private thoughts get a little away from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Allen

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my lovely project!  
> I've started re-watching Prison Break and plan on writing a short fic after each episode.  
> Each story will be titled to match the episode.  
> Sometimes the stories will relate directly to the main storyline, sometimes I'll pick out one moment that really strikes me and run with it.  
> This series will explore a whole bunch of pairings, with each one being a stand alone fic.
> 
> This story is for Season 1, Episode 2.  
> Michael tries to get the screw from the bench and T-Bag gets all territorial. 
> 
> Let's go!

In all of his planning and prep work, Michael had forgotten to factor in people. Oh, of course he had researched the key figures he needed to better execute his plan; Sara Tancredi, John Abruzzi, Charles Westmoreland.

But what he had forgotten to consider was the other inmates, the ones that he would have to live with day to day until he made his escape. How they would react to him, how he would react to them.

And in all of his life, Michael never thought he would react to a man like T-Bag. 

Theodore Bagwell; inbred rapist, murderer. And all Michael could focus on was that southern drawl. That Alabamian lilt, dropped down to a hushed whisper caressing his ear. 

It was lights out, all the inmates safely tucked away in their cells. Sucre was snoring lightly and Michael was lying on his back thinking about Theodore Bagwell.

Michael gently ran his fingers over his stomach. He had pulled up his prison issued top to expose his flesh, the skin beneath his fingers soft and hairless. His fingers travelled further down, down his hip bones, down until he was circling his slowly hardening dick with his fist. 

That voice, the way it washed over Michael. It sent shivers rolling down his spine. The way T-Bag moved, the way he swayed his hips. That offer of protection, pocket pulled out. 

Michael gasped silently and closed his fist tighter around his dick. He pulled, tugged at his foreskin, fingered the small slit at the tip. He had to be quiet. Sucre was feet from him and Michael could almost guarantee he wasn't the only inmate awake.

He pulled the corner of his thin bed cover closer from where he had pushed it away earlier and took it in to his mouth, bit down to stifle the sounds of his pleasure.

He was stroking in earnest now, could barely help himself. Fist pumping up and down. The slick sound of his flesh echoed in the small cell. He gasped louder this time around the bed covers, biting down harder in an effort to remain silent.

Michael imagined T-Bag cornering him. Crowding in to his personal space. Michael increased his pace again. A bead of precome slicked the head of his dick and he wished he could have procured some lube, slicked the way.

T-Bag using his slender frame to cover Michael's. He wanted the murderer, wanted him in such a primitive way. Michael groaned and shuddered on a down stroke, his soft silky flesh felt burning hot under his fingers.

Michael imagined T-Bag boxing him in, caging him in with arms above his head. T-Bag would align their hips and grind down. He would grunt and release small sounds of pleasure right there, close to Michael's ear. His breathing would increase, start panting against Michael's ear. Hot breath fanning against his neck.

Michael shuddered and pumped harder, his free hand dropping down and gripping his balls, tugged gently in time with his strokes. 

T-Bag's hips would be sharp and push insistently at Michael's. His hard length would be hot alongside Michael's. 

Too quickly he was shuddering and coming, his come painted hot stripes up his stomach. The bed sheet that was slowly soaking through with his spit was released him his mouth, it fell wetly against his shoulder. 

All of Michael's muscles relaxed as endorphins rushed through him. Disgust quickly chased the release.

Not in all of his planning and prep work for breaking out of Fox River State Penitentiary did Michael ever anticipate jerking off over a filthy inmate like Theodore Bagwell.


End file.
